Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Caressing it with pressure.
Pleasure.
Fervor.
Frenetically rubbing it while Tanner’s cock frantically strokes my deepest depths determined to get what he wants.
To prove he’s a man of his word.
That I can trust what he says.
“Balls deep, Arden,” is grunted alongside sloppier slams. “I wanna spend this whole fucking season balls deep in you.”
Ignoring the way my pussy and chest tighten in unison is impossible.
“Fuck that,” he hisses, shaft noticeably swelling, “I’m going to.”
Wetness drowns his dick.
Soaks his nuts.
Trickles towards the floor.
“You’re mine,” Tanner selfishly states at the same time he cuts off all air. “And I’m yours.”
Despite the inability to actually scream, I make the motion anyway, snapping my head back the tiniest fraction it can go and voicelessly screech his name to the same incessant speed my pussy in quaking.
“And that’s regulation, Slayer,” he happily grumbles while scorching ropes of cum begin splashing against my throbbing muscles. “Get ready for OT…”
Chapter 13
Tanner
Why does everything have to be more bloody complicated than it looks on YouTube?
And also why on Hull’s green earth is this brush so tiny?
How am I expected not to break this?!
I mean I know I’ve got some of the steadiest hands in the league but even this might be pushing it.
I feel as though I’ve been tasked to play Operation ear edition.
“Tanner…” Arden unsuspectedly calls out prior to opening the hotel bathroom door. “Have you seen my-” the abrupt entrance causes the bite-sized device to clumsily shoot towards the ceiling yet be effortlessly caught by the palm of the opposing hand, “…hearing aid.”
There’s no taming down the arrogant grin on display. “Tadah!”
“You do know that that’s not a toy, right?”
“Yes.”
“That I actually need that to hear the stupid shit you say in a day.”
Tossing her a playful glare is attached to the retort, “Yes.”
“Then why are you playing sink hockey with it?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Fine counter hockey.”
“Not that either, Ducky.”
Her nose scrunches at the nickname; however, she doesn’t object.
Meaning she likes it.
And that she most likely hates that she does.
“Then what were you doing?” leaves her as she smoothly slides the device back into place.
“Cleaning it.”
“What? Why?”
“I thought that perhaps it might need it after last night…”
At that, Arden buries her face down in hopes of preventing me from seeing her blush.
It doesn’t.
And thank The Great One that it doesn’t.
I love being the reason her face is red whether that’s from embarrassment or lack of oxygen.
“Did that…” my boxer brief covered ass leans against the edge of the countertop during my search for the correct phrasing, “bother you?”
Our eyes meet once more. “Did what bother me?”
“Having my mouth on your ear.” I gently put down the tiny cleaning tool on top of the fabric cloth. “Having me talk in it.”
She nervously tucks a loose strand behind the area we’re discussing on a mumbled, “I liked it.” A tiny bite of her bottom lip is taken. “A lot.”
My cock instantly begins to stir prompting me to cross my hands in front of it during my continued investigating, “Is that something I should continue?”
Rather than give me the answer I want – and lets be Frank, the answer I need – she tugs the sleeves of her Dalvegan hoodie into the palms of her hands on an uncomfortable murmur, “About that…”
“Don’t you dare try to undo what we stayed up all night finally doing.”
Arden struggles not to smirk yet again.
And we were.
We were both literally up until about forty-five minutes ago, which is when she finally crashed in my arms for a quick winker while I couldn’t do anything but stare on in awe.
Awe that it really happened.
Awe that it really happened with the right woman.
Awe that me – of all bloody puckheads – really gets to have the one woman meant for him.
And Arden Hoss is most certainly meant for me and only me.
And I’ll do whatever it takes…for however long it takes…to make that completely understood as well as accepted.
“I don’t wanna not keep doing it…” she coyly announces causing relief to flood through my tense system. “But I also don’t wanna get fired for doing it.”
Shit.
That’s right.
Fraternizing is not just frowned upon by the league.
It’s a fireable offense in Dalvegan.
It’s also one reason the ice girls are constantly kept away from us, although that doesn’t and hasn’t stopped the players looking to see them scream off the ice from making that happen.
Becks used to pride himself on the number he could bag on any team in any given season.
Both available and “unavailable”.
He’s a good mate; however, he is by far the definition of a skating PR nightmare.
And given how often I tend to make media reports…us dating is likely to become one too.
“So, I have a few ground rules to keep the latter from happening,” Arden firmly states, arms folding across her chest. “Agree to them and we can continue…whatever…this…is.”
“Dating.” Smug amusement doesn’t hesitate to be shown. “We cannot continue to do it if you cannot even say it, Ducky.” Her mouth twitches open prompting me to swiftly shake my head. “And no, I will not abide by any rule that requires me to stop calling you Ducky.”